


fibres from a single thread

by chalahandra



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: All Possible Inquisitors, Drabble, Gen, Minific
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 12:40:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11921109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chalahandra/pseuds/chalahandra
Summary: A snapshot of a handful of Heralds, in the dungeons at Haven.Or; Cassandra is perpetually unimpressed by all this.





	fibres from a single thread

The Qunari woman - the prisoner - is on the floor, on her side. There's a pillow under her head, and a blanket over her very swollen belly. Solas kneels by her, checking on the Mark again. There's shadows under his eyes.

"The child is well, and the Mark has finally stopped expanding."

Cassandra mutters a prayer of thankfulness, and scrubs at her face.

\---

The Dwarven woman has a sneer on her face and stubble on her chin. She laughs at them when they demand answers, but even that bravado fades in the face of the reality waiting outside.

"That's - Stone and Maker, that's wrong." In her palm, the Mark flexes, but she doesn't notice, too stunned by the hole in the sky.

\---

The noble children wake at the same time, try to speak at the same time, and their Marks flare with pain at the same time. Solas is fascinated. Cassandra pointedly does not care.

What matters is closing the Breach, and if they have two Marks, perhaps it will close that horrific hole into the Fade faster.

\---

"Where is my _son_." The demand is guttural, heavily accented. Despite his upper body being clad in warpaint, the Qunari man seems comfortable in the cold of the dungeon. "Where is my husband?!" 

Certainly comfortable enough to issue demands as if he were in charge.

\---

Pointed ears flicking at the sound of movement, suspicious eyes following their every movement; this Dalish elf is rightfully wary. Leliana could not tell them which gods the marks on their face meant, and if Solas knew, he wasn't saying.

It didn't matter what they said - or if they chose to stay silent. All that mattered was the Breach.

\---

"How curious." The girl flexes her marked hand, ice crystals forming and melting in the same breath. Her eyebrows crease, pulling her unusual vallaslin closer. If Cassandra didn't know better, she'd say that it looked like to a Pride Demon's eyes.

But that would be ridiculous. Why would a Dalish mark themselves like a demon?

\---

Blue skin. How ridiculous. If Leliana had not confirmed the identity of their prisoner personally, Cassandra would have had them executed just to ensure that they weren't a demon. Now, however...

"All those people." Her grief seems genuine. They'll see if her abilities are just as genuine when she stands before the Breach.

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of canon-allied to Polyquisition - the final person is Ardharati Adaar, and the others are either in the Valos-Kas, or are related to Adaar. They are, in order:
> 
> \- Gitappai, former Tamassran  
> \- Qudratli Cadash, warrior on the run from the Carta  
> \- Brea & Iargail Trevelyan, youngest children of Bann Trevelyan  
> \- Beresri Tamasson, Avvar Chieftain  
> \- Vanilal Lavellan, archer  
> \- Naihandava Lavellan, First, dedicated to Fen'harel  
> \- Ardharati Adaar, Inquisitor.


End file.
